


Misery Loves Company

by KissingInCars



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Astronomy References, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Pining, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingInCars/pseuds/KissingInCars
Summary: George’s friends abandon him at a party and he meets someone new.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	Misery Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

> The brainrot was real.

The early hours of the morning are when things tend to blur together. George dragged his feet down the halls of his dorm, for the fourth time that week he was telling himself he would never go and get drunk when he had an early class the next morning but, here he was.

A few months ago George would have never considered his drinking to be much of a worry because as far as his friends were concerned he was a social drinker. His best friend, Nick, being a party animal and a majority of his friendship group being the same, he was forced to go to nearly every party they got invited to. George had a bad habit of digging himself into holes when he felt overwhelmed with his college work. Sometimes to the point where he just refused to do any of it making it more stressful for himself in the long run. Nick was often the one to bring George from his metaphorical pits with the promise of alcohol and socialisation. After many times of protesting, he learnt it was easier to agree to go, get drunk, not remember the night and regret it the next morning. It became a cycle George depended on quite fast because ignoring your problems and drinking them away under the guise of being a social drinker helped them go away.

The party they were at had ended earlier than anyone expected and they found themselves walking to another just off of campus. Somewhere in the short time of arriving and getting a drink, he couldn't quite recall where and when the rest of his friends had escaped but he wasn't too fussed. And despite the rapidly depleting alcohol at this party, people were still everywhere so George decided to stay for a while longer. They were like ants when they found something sweet. That something sweet in this situation being alcohol. The buzz in his bones fuelling his solo adventure to the kitchen to acquire something else to drink. He was more so pissed at Nick because last time they went to a party he got too drunk and ended up on the opposite side of town, meaning a very hungover and pissed off George had to go and get him the next morning.

It wasn't the best he’d been to, it was hosted by some guy in the year below he’d never heard of. It was mostly people from that year but a bunch of people in the same year as himself. Word had spread of a campus party and the promise of free alcohol could never be passed up so they crashed it. The music was shit and the beer was shittier but somehow, George managed to get more fucked up than he ever had been before. 

Trying to weigh his options, he shotgunned the nearest can of unopened beer in an attempt to help him think straight. It didn’t, only sending his mind into further disarray as he grimaced badly at the sour taste travelling down his throat and the small bead of blood on his lip. 

_This is why you never do this when you’re this far gone you dumbass._

In an effort to steady himself George leant against the counter, shaking his head. The foulness never lifted and the heat flushed through him like running water and the feeling of someone burning a hole in the side of his face added another layer to it.  
Gingerly wiping his hands across his face, he turned in the direction of the gaze to see a tall guy with long hair staring down at him. He was not that much taller than George himself but he still had to tilt his head back quite a ways to see his face, which had a mixture of shock and reverence on it which made George's stomach feel warm and pink spread across his cheeks at the thought of someone finding his poor attempt attractive. He strained his eyes, blinking furiously to fully focus his vision through the dark light. He didn’t recognise the boy but he had a small sense of familiarity about him that George felt drawn to.

One of the reasons George favoured getting drunk so much was because it made him feel more confident. He knew it and Nick knew it which is why he always pressured him to go out to these parties. 

But in this instance, George screwed his eyebrows together, biting back the urge to ask a sassy what the fuck are you looking at. All it took was a small look in a particular way for him to get considerably flustered and as he watched the guys eyes travel down to his lips and remain at the spot where his blood was smudged, he just stared back awkwardly. 

And when he finally spoke, breaking the silence that had eloped them, George struggled to gather any information apart from his name which was Clay and how he spoke with a vernacular that could easily bring anyone to their knees. The bustling music around them limited their hearing and when Clay took a small step close to George and leaned down near his ear so he could speak without shouting, his heart sped up slightly at the closeness. And for the first time in his life, George didn't find himself wanting to run like usual if a stranger did this. 

The feeling of Clay's breath on the side of his face made George partially short circuit. In the dark lighting, he was only able to figure out his hair was dirty blonde and he had green eyes. The main source of light for their conversation being from the blue LED necklace around his neck. And through his drunken state, he barely realised that the hair was now slightly tickling his cheek, as various words effortlessly fell from Clays mouth. George could tell he was drunk from the smell of whiskey that surrounded him and when he moved on instinct George inhaled a very slight scent of sandalwood. 

He was captivated.

Agreeing and nodding along to the futile conversation, George let himself wonder how he was going to get home. The walk back to his dorm not being far but when you're drunk it seemed it and anything could go wrong and the last thing he wanted to do was worry anyone.  
The kitchen was fairly small and as someone tried to walk past Clay, he accidentally stood too close to George. His lips brushed across his cheekbone as he moved and the air in Georges lungs vaporised. As the gap between them grew significantly smaller and George felt the warmth Clay's body radiated, he asked himself if it was normal for people to run this hot. 

He soon lost his trail of thought and started to count how many songs had changed until Clay finally stopped speaking again. He was unable to even recall the topic. He was listening but only to the boy's voice because he liked the sound of it in his ears and the way he could physically hear his smile at some parts.  
He was endearing and George couldn't keep his eyes away from him. The way he pushed his blonde hair from his eyes, how he kept talking despite George not listening, the tone in his voice when he’d asked George for his name, it made his head swirl. 

He cleared his throat, placed his hand lightly on Clay's shoulder to stable himself and refused to tell him. The cloudiness in his head caught up making it impossible to construct even a simple sentence, his idea of making an excuse to leave died in his throat but he didnt care.

After some while pressuring George to tell him, he still refused. His friends always tell him that he is a stubborn bitch and evidently that was true because in true George nature, he was being stubborn.  
“Are you going to tell me?” George thought for a second and shook his head. 

“Hmm” He thought with a teasing smile creeping onto his face, “No.” George shook his head again. He wasn’t going to budge and give him the win. The tiny aura of mystery George had was intincing and he knew it. He knew Clay would be interested to know, after all he had chewed Georges ear off about god knows what and all Clay could say he “knew” about the boy was that he stunk of alcohol and had pretty eyes. 

“Come onnn. Please” He whined, holding George by his shoulders. George laughed and shook his head once more.

“I’ll get it out if you somehow” With clear cockiness in his voice. He couldn't tell if it was his imagination or if his voice dropped a few octaves. It was pretty fucking attractive and It sounded natural hearing him speak. Despite never wanting to admit it aloud, George wanted to hear it more.

“Oh Really? How?” He asked back with doubt in his voice. Clay tapped his nose refusing to let go of his secrets and let out a laugh. George's mind swam in the stars at the sound. It was beautiful and loud, accentuated by his intoxication and the dramatic fling of his head making his wavy hair flip upwards. Sober, a laugh of this sort would probably piss the boy off and yet George found himself unbothered by it. He basked in the sound, letting it rattle through him. A placid smile made its way to his face and he declared that he would. 

They spoke some more and George drank more. If he was gonna stay any longer in the company of the blonde boy, he might as well drink to divert his mind from thinking about his friends ditching him earlier. And although he was teetering between the borderline of black out drunk, the beer still tasted horrible and Georges face screwed in disgust as he chucked back one after the other, earning another snarky _‘if you don't like the taste dont drink it anymore’_ from Clay which earned him a weak punch in the arm and a wide smile from George. 

He was whisky drunk but Clay could hold his liquor well and in comparison to George he could be mistook as sober. After getting delight from watching him drink himself drunk, he took it upon himself to prevent George from drinking anymore rancid beer, wrapped his arms around the small boys frame and literally dragged him away from the kitchen counter and as he realised what was happening, George flung a heavy _'what the fuck!'_ in his direction and it made Clay chuckle. 

It sparked George to go on a small rant of why it was wrong to stop him from consuming any more alcohol. Melodramatically quoting things his friends had said to him in the past to encourage his drinking. Clay countered every point George made until he hit back with ‘why are you giving me this lecture you're drunk yourself’ and gleefully smiled when he silenced the boy. He didn't even realise he let his name slip when reiterating how his friend Jesse was the main factor in why he essentially stress drinked and carried on talking. Clay intently listened with a smug smile plastered across his face as _George George George_ bounced around his head. He was happy because he hadn’t even tried to pry it out of him the way he intended.  
Time felt like it didn't exist anymore as they sat on the front steps of the house watching the night sky. Neither spoke. And for the first time that night he saw Clay in semi natural light. George was staring and he couldn't care less. He was in disbelief at how beautiful he was. The freckles that paved his arms, the small movements of his hair every time he moved to look over at George, the way he sounded like a kettle when he laughed and how confidently he carried himself. George made a mental note of his bright smile and likened it to the bright star in canis major constellation and the colour of his hair to sticky honey.

\------

“Oh god” Clay mumbled as he rummaged through a kitchen draw to find a pen.  
“I have to go,” he said hurriedly, glancing around, “but here, give me.” He reached for George's arm. Clay's touch burned against his already hot skin as he scribbled on George's arm. George looked down, it hadn’t fully registered that he was being written on, only giggling lightly because the drag of the pen tickled his skin. He continued to stare at Clay when he was done and smiled. His thoughts piled up on one another and his brain betrayed his pleads not to open his mouth, before saying a little too loudly, “You’re quite good looking you know that?” 

“You think so?” he replied, raising his eyebrows as he looked up at George from his crouched position and George nodded.  
Clay finally let go of George's arm and he instantly missed his touch. “Then make sure you call me.” He whispered with a smile. The placement of his hand at the base of Georges neck, complemented with the intense eye contact made George completely lose it. The fleeting thought of what his hand would feel like wrapped around his throat made his cheeks heat with embarrassment. He had only just met the guy and he felt such fervent lust, it was definitely out of character for George and he thought maybe if he shut his eyes it would leave with the world but it didn't. Instead it welcomed the thought and want to kiss him right here and now but he resisted.

The taller boy leaned in and all the cells in the smaller boy's body panicked at the feel of dry, chapped lips on his soft forehead. It made the shine of the stars feel insignificant in the night sky and his mind replayed the feel even after he pulled away. 

He disregarded Clay saying goodbye and stood there lost as he watched the tall blonde disappear into the night. Leaving a very drunk George to walk home across campus with a badly written phone number on his forearm and a heart that felt as if it was going to explode.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it! I haven’t wrote properly in a while so I’m not too fond of this but maybe I’ll write some more. Who knows. 
> 
> The title is a song by Gorgeous Bully.


End file.
